Keyboards Still Play

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Gentle steps of the keys play separately,

 

yet, together the music becomes a harmony

 

of memory and of verse.

 

Verse now resident of the soul,

 

to be written in prose of tomorrows.

 

Forgotten, we continue with music,

 

music of feelings never forgotten

 

in our today, yet the keyboards still play…Back Camera

 

©  CMM  2013

Lost Letter

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Cleaning my desk,

I opened an envelope stuffed

with keepsakes, cards, letters.

Crinkled against time, some tattered

with wear, I saw an old familiar address.

Pulling it from the pile was like pulling

a friend from the reservoirs of memories.

I opened it, the dust had settled on his words

as ashes and sand settled on his grave.

He had written to tell me that he was diagnosed

with cancer …

He reflected in ink, spilling his frozen moments

of time on the paper, as he waits for the rest of his treatments.

Slipped in the envelope was a picture he had taken

of a seagull taking flight.

It was this, the lost letter, I had looked for

from the past.Hans Seagull photo

©  CMM  2013

Valentine’s Day

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Oh, but the heart that has labored love
    in laced valentine’s of past.
Cutting out the ribbons of red,
    to give in hopes that love will last.
The confectionaries create their wares
     and boxed in all heart  sizes.
As anticipation builds in
     the expectant heart she prizes.
The day will wear and waiting passes.
     How will the promise come?
The time for many and then a few.
But, from the hopeful one?
© CMM  2012

Sterile Winter’s Return

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Cold the sun

which days now come,

a frozen still breath,

a summer now done.

Barren limbs

widows time,

to watch and listen

a quiet sublime.

Oh, but the promise

of summer’s youth,

is lost among dried

leaves now mute.

No wind, no breeze,

does not remain

as time has come,

winter’s season now reclaimed.

 

©  CMM  2012